


Hearts on Fire

by Anonymous



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adjacent, Anal Sex, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Codependency, Consent Issues, Creepy Brock Rumlow, Decent Guy Brock Rumlow, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, HYDRA Trash Party, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hydra (Marvel), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pet Names, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-HYDRA Reveal, Rough Sex, Smut, Spit As Lube, Sub Bucky Barnes, Tumblr Prompt, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, but not really?, just a little creepy?, unedited smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 04:51:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18381326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Prompt 48: "You make me want things I can't have."





	Hearts on Fire

Pushing through the heavy door, and careful not to let the raging cold in, Brock manages to drag himself and the Asset into the safe room. He sets the Asset down on the ground by the fireplace and Brock immediately looks around for some matches to get the fire started. Thankfully, there’s a set on the mantle about the fireplace and Brock strikes the match against the back of the box and throws the flame onto the wood, watching as the fire ignites along the old pine blocks. 

The mission had gone to complete shit and the STRIKE team was now completely separated. Luckily, he had eyes on the Asset and the Asset had eyes on him. And now they’re stuck in an old Hydra safe room somewhere in the Canadian wilderness of all places. 

Best of all, there’s an actual fucking blizzard going on outside. 

“Try to keep warm,” Brock says. “I can’t have you catching hypothermia on me while we’re trapped out here.” 

The Asset scoots himself closer to the growing fire and Brock walks off to look around the rest of the safe house. 

It’s a standard cabin, log walls, log floors, a small living room and even smaller kitchen adjacent to the living room. There’s a short hallway stemming from the dining area of the kitchen leading into the master—and only—bedroom in the cabin. There’s a hallway closet in the hallway and the bathroom (a simple toilet and shower) is in the master bedroom. There’s a dinky old fridge in the kitchen, probably full of expired food from whenever the hell this place was last used, a round dining table in the most spacious area of the kitchen and three chairs surrounding it, and a two-seater blue-grey couch in the living room in front of the fireplace. 

Brock notices that there’s dust covering the pots and pans left drying a towel on the counter and cobwebs in almost every ceiling corner of the living room. He doesn’t even want to know what bugs are living in the bed in the bedroom or in the couch in the living room, but he doesn’t care right now. He just needs to keep himself and the Asset safe until Hydra can come to get them. 

Simple enough. 

“Soldier, status,” Brock commands once he makes his way back into the living room. 

The Asset is sitting crisscross in front of the fireplace, his back to Brock, and his combat gear utterly soaked and dripping onto the wood floor, an easy slipping hazard. 

“Functional.” The Asset says. His voice is different though, less robotic than usual. He’s gone almost two weeks without a wipe so it’s not abnormal for things to start seeping through the cracks. 

Brock doesn’t know who the Asset was before this, but Director Pierce does and Brock figures he’ll be disclosed that information once he’s been cleared to be. Until then, he can only treat the Asset like any other subordinate. 

“That’s good.” Brock sighs. “I need you to strip out of your combat gear, down to the underwear Soldier, chop chop.” He claps his hand for dramatic effect and immediately the Asset begins to remove his clothes. 

Logically, Brock should be searching for some loungewear in the bedroom closet, but logic has flown out the window. He’s too busy staring at the Asset. 

The snow outside managed to wash out some of the dirt and blood from the Asset’s body and so now his skin looks clean. Or as clean as it’s going to get. His hair is wet and is sleek, pressed down against his face. Water drips from the split ends of his brunette colored hair and onto the Asset’s cheek, rolling down his pale face slowly before falling to the floor. 

Brock wonders what the Asset would look like if he was kept properly groomed for once. 

The Asset manages to take off and neatly tuck away his wet combat gear so that now he’s standing in nothing but dark grey boxer shorts and a black skin-tight shirt. 

Brock wants nothing more than for those gorgeous thighs to wrap around his waist while he’s fucking the Asset roughly missionary, but he shakes those unwarranted thoughts from his head. 

“Stay by the fire, I’ll be back.” Brock manages to choke out and he makes a break for the bedroom. He’ll probably die if he can’t find any clothes for the Asset. 

Brock returns 10 minutes later with a pair of navy-blue sweatpants and a black hoodie with the movie poster for the fourth Star Wars movie on it for the Asset and a pair of grey sweats and dark red sweater for himself. 

“Put these on,” Brock says, throwing the clothes at the Asset. 

The Asset quickly puts on the sweats and hoodie and thankfully, they’re the right size. Whoever was here last had to have been a similar size to the Asset for their clothes to thankfully fit him right. 

Brock changes out of his own wet clothes, setting them on the metal chair by the fireplace before he sits on the edge of the couch, eyes focused on the Asset who’s fidgeting in place. 

“Winter.” Brock’s voice is softer than it was earlier. He’s not giving orders right now, so this is okay. “You got something on your mind?” 

“It’s cold.” The Asset says. 

“Yes, it is.” Brock agrees. Sometimes the Asset sounds like a child when he’s not busy killing politicians and world leader on missions or when he’s not fighting against the lab technicians before they put him in the chair again before putting him in cryo. 

Sometimes the Asset sounds like a normal guy. 

“It’s cold and we need to conserve body heat in case we run out of firewood.” 

“Are you suggesting we cuddle?” Brock snorts. It’s not the guy’s worst idea, it’s certainly practical, but not practical enough. 

The Asset doesn’t respond though, he just walks closer and plops himself on the other side of the couch. 

“Alright, alright.” Brock huffs. “You win, come here Winter, let’s cuddle.” He opens himself to the Asset, leaning back against the old couch with his arms wide open and his lap vacant for the taking. 

The Asset’s body slowly rests onto Brocks, his head lays on Brock’s chest and his arm wraps around Brock’s waist. Luckily, it’s the non-metal one. Brock’s own arms wrap themselves around the Asset’s shoulders and Brock rests his chin on the Asset’s head. 

They stay like this, cuddling like some movie couple for a while. The sun begins to set, and the winds begin to pick up outside, causing the foundation of the cabin to shake even more than before. The howling wind is certainly haunting, but Brock doesn’t care at the moment because he’s too busy cuddling with the Asset. 

Brock shifts them a bit, so the Asset’s head is in his lap now so he can run his fingers through the guy’s hair.

It’s softer than he imagined. 

“You warming up?” Brock asks, being the first to break the silence in what could have been hours. 

“Yes, sir.” The Asset says, nuzzling himself against Brock. 

Like a goddamn cat. 

“You’re a minx aren’t you? Testing me to report it all back to Director Pierce?” 

“Sir?” The Asset’s head picks up and he leans away from Brock, a little stunned, like a kid who forgot to do a homework assignment. It makes sense though if the Asset thinks Brock is talking about a mission he’s forgotten to do instead of accusing him of being some form of a succubus. 

“You make me want things I can’t have, sweetheart.” Brock sighs, tangling his hand into some of the Asset’s hair. He tugs at it gently, bringing the Asset back towards him and causing a pitiful groan to escape the Asset’s beautiful pink lips. 

“You make we want things too, sir.” The Asset whispers against Brock’s borrowed sweater. 

“What type of things baby?” 

“I like when you give me pieces of your candy bars when the rest of the STRIKE team isn’t looking, and I want you to be able to give me more.” 

“Is that all?” The Asset shakes his head. 

“I like when you don’t get mad at me when I make a mistake…like today.” The Asset audibly gulps. “Cause I don’t like getting punished, so I want…I want to not be punished anymore and I want you to keep me with you instead of having to put me back under after every mission.” 

“You say the sweetest things, baby.” Brock chuckles, a knot forming in his stomach and a hard on forming in his pants. 

“What things do I make you want sir?” The Asset asks. His voice is soft and disgustingly sweet. It’s innocent and childlike and Brock’s the creepy perv taking advantage of his innocence. But he doesn’t really give a damn in hindsight. 

“I want to take you home too like you want, and I want to kiss you and fuck you until you’re a sobbing mess underneath me, darling.” 

The Asset shivers and Brock smirks. 

“Do you want that too baby?” 

The Asset doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even nod. 

Brock shifts them again, he pushes the Asset onto his back so that now Brock’s on top of him, hovering and pinning him down to the couch. Their legs are tangled together, and the Asset doesn’t even struggle. He’s always been so pliant. 

“I asked,” Brock snarls. “Do you want that too?”

The Asset finally nods. “Yes sir, I do want that.” 

Brock should know better, as his handler, than to go antagonizing the Asset over wants and feelings, he’s the Winter Soldier, he’s not supposed to want or need anything. But Brock can’t help himself. 

Brock lowers himself, like when he does pushups, and presses a chaste kiss against the Asset’s lips. A spark ignites between them and if Brock were a romantic, he’d believe that was a sign of true love. Instead, he takes it as is, a spark of passion between two incredibly sexy individuals. 

“We can’t tell anyone about this,” Brock whispers against the Asset’s ear. “If we do, they might take you away from me.” 

Those words sound like something he heard in a documentary about sex offenders, but he brushes the thought off as soon as it enters his mind. 

“I won’t tell anyone, sir, I promise.” The Asset says, his voice almost high enough to be a whine. 

Brock chuckles and nudges his knee between the Assets legs and finds himself touching a very obvious boner hiding underneath the Asset’s sweats. 

“I believe you, baby,” Brock sighs, nudging his knee harder against the Asset’s cock. 

“Sir.” The Asset whimpers and a small moan escapes his throat and Brock kisses him again, harder this time. He bites the Asset’s tongue and holds it between his teeth for a moment before releasing it to focus on more important tasks at hand. 

“Sit up sweetheart, I want you undressed.” 

The Asset sits up immediately and Brock shucks off the hoodie and t-shirt from the Asset’s body. Both articles of clothing land haphazardly on the floor and then Brock does the same with his own sweater and t-shirt. 

Brock then yanks the waistband of the Asset’s sweats off, taking the underwear off with it. 

The Asset looks so sweet and vulnerable underneath him and if he were a religious man, Brock would be almost certain that he’s committing one of the ultimate sins.  

“Look at you.” Brock purrs. “You’re more beautiful than I imagined.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“So, you agree with me then, you do think you’re beautiful?” Brock teases, running his tongue along the Asset’s neck and then leaning farther down to capture the Asset’s hardening nipples between his teeth.

The Asset arches his back and cries under him, and Brock quickly removes his own pants and underwear so he can get the show started.

Brock’s hands run down the Asset’s body, pinching and squeezing where he can, and causing more sweet moans to escape the Asset’s lips.

“Gorgeous,” Brock says, sucking the skin on the Asset’s neck. He knows that the mark would be gone within an hour, but Brock still wants to cover this man in his marks, branding him to show the world just who the Asset actually belongs to.

While Brock continues his assault of the Asset’s neck with kisses so vulgar it’d make any elderly woman feint his hand reaches down so he can attempt to open the Asset up as gently as he can.

“We’re very unprepared right now sweetheart,” Brock says but the Asset can’t react because Brock’s already pushing one of his fingers through the Asset’s rim.

The Assets inhales sharply and whines, tensing his muscles.

“I know, I know,” Brock says. “We don’t have anything to make this easier for you, but I’ll be as gentle as possible. I wouldn’t want to hurt you now would I?”

Brock brings his hand back to his face, gives his fingers a good heaping coat of spit and quickly returns them to the Asset’s ass.

The Asset’s jaw is clenched tight, and Brock tries to alleviate that tension by using his other hand to gently stroke the Asset’s cock. He doesn’t want him to cum until he’s inside him, but he can still have some fun edging him a little.

“That’s a good boy,” Brock says as the Asset begins to relax a little. “It’s easier if you don’t tense up so much baby.”

The Asset forcefully relaxes himself some more, letting Brock insert another finger inside him so he can stretch him nice and good on his fingers before the real fun begins.

Brock figures the Asset’s stretched enough by the third finger and quickly retracts his fingers from the Asset’s ass. He then stands up, making the Asset whimper from the loss of touch but Brock takes the Asset’s hand, assuring him he’ll be back with him soon.

“Give me a good sucking baby, I need to be wet, so I don’t hurt you more than I gotta.” He smirks.

The Asset curiously opens his mouth and runs his split coated tongue around Brock’s dick. It feels so much better than Brock could ever imagine. The Asset’s mouth is hot and wet, and his tongue feels great on his cock, but he doesn’t let the Asset lick him for long. He’s got a sweet ass to fuck.

Brock returns to his side of the couch and lifts the Asset’s legs around his waist, slowly, Brock inches his way into the Asset.

The Asset yells at the intrusion but slowly Brock manages to get himself inside him.

“Sir.” The Asset whines, tears spilling at the corners of his eyes and Brock wants to lick up those sweet tears from the Asset’s cheeks.

“I know, I know, it doesn’t feel so good right now, but it will soon sweetheart,” Brock assures him.

Brock begins to pick up a slow pace thrusting into the Asset. He’s tight, tighter than he would have thought him to be, but the lack of lube does factor into this. But soon the Asset’s groans of discomfort turns into moans of pleasure.

Brock continues thrusting into the Asset and the Asset keeps pulling him back it. It’s amazing.

“Baby you feel so good.” Brock moans. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“Sir, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please go faster, please.” He begs.

And damn does he know how to beg.

“You want me to go faster baby?”

“Yes, sir. Please.”

“I wanna hear you say it, sweetheart,” Brock says, slowing his pace to get the Asset to say what he wants him to say.

“Please sir, fuck me faster!” The Asset cries and for once it’s Brock complying to the Asset’s orders.

“Anything for you sweetheart,” Brock growls, thrusting in faster and harder.

Loud moans erupt from the Asset, Brock’s never heard him this loud before and he loves it.

Brock’s hands quickly wrap around the Asset’s throat and he squeezes his hands as he pushes farther into the Asset his thighs tighten around Brock’s waist just like he wanted him to.

Brock can feel himself about to come and he knows he’s hitting the Asset’s sweet spot with how breathy and desperate his moans have become. So, Brock doesn’t let up, he keeps his fast and brutal pace, captures the Asset’s lips into a kiss and pumps his cums deep inside Winter.

Winter’s pitched cry is a good indicator Brock’s held up his end of the bargain as Winter’s cum pools onto his stomach.

Brock’s hands release Winter’s throat and Brock lifts himself off of Winter, removing his cock from the other man’s ass.

Winter’s beautifully sculpted body lies limp on the couch, legs bent, arms up, and chest heaving.

“You doing good sweetheart?” Brock asks as he walks into the hallway to take a blanket out from the closet.

“Mmhm.” Winter sighs, a smile spread wide across his face.

It’s nice seeing Winter look like this, blissed out and utterly wrecked.

Brock return with the blanket and sits himself back onto the couch, he could care less about the mess sliding off Winter’s abdomen and leaking from his ass. So, Brock just pulls Winter back into his lap and throws the blanket over his lower half. He keeps a hand running up and down Winter’s lower back and uses his other hand to play with Winter’s hair.

“We probably won’t ever be able to do this again.” Brock muses.

“No, we won’t…” Winter sniffles. Brock knows it’s cause he’s crying and not because he’s sick. Because he can’t get sick.

“I wish we could sweetheart, but it’s too risky.” He sighs.

“I wanna stay with you forever.” Winter cries, nuzzling into Brock’s lap once more.

“I want that too…but we can’t always have what we want baby…”

“No…” He cries again, softer this time.

“You’ll be okay, we’ll be okay…” Brock assures Winter, but it falls upon deaf ears because Winter’s already fallen asleep.

Brock decides to follow in Winter’s example and closes his eyes, letting sleep wash over him and letting a single tear to fall from his face.

**Author's Note:**

> For prompt number 48 on Tumblr. 
> 
> This is unedited so if the smuts bad don't hate me for it. I'm doing a flash writing challenge. 
> 
> Send me more prompts please?
> 
> [Tumblr](https://hydras-white-wolf.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
